The Girl in the Yellow Dress
by Cheap Indifference
Summary: Maybe people wore black to funerals to represent how they felt on the inside—complete darkness.


**Authors Note: This one has to be dedicated to the lovely aero who managed to actually motivate me enough to write something.**

**Also want to note I am looking for a beta, and the list on this site is far too long and unspecific to search through 277 profiles. So if anyone is interested and willing just PM me, it would make me happy.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsider. I definitely claim Jane though.**

**XXX**

**Late August 1966**

Everyone was in black. Black shoes, black suits, black dresses… black, a shade of darkness. Maybe people wore black to funerals to represent how they felt on the inside—complete darkness.

The sun was shining, it wasn't too hot today, which was nice seeing as more people showed up to the church then it could hold. People were crying, weeping, sobbing, some were just numb, blank, shocked, confused. The black added to everything, it emphasized everything… made it more real, somehow.

Darry invited people back to our place after the funeral, friends… it was crowded but everyone seemed to lighten up; from escaping the church or being around others going through the same thing—I didn't know, but it didn't much matter. Darry was the strongest one out of all of us, he had to be; everyone else was to grief ridden to even take a step in his direction. But I was thankful; if another person questioned me about that night or asked me how I was doing I was sure I would explode. I could handle the stares, people had always stared at me; it's what happened when there was one greaser in a classroom full of Soc's. Of course, this was a different kind of stare; I had gotten in the habit of pretending they weren't.

I had made my way toward Soda and Steve, the only people in the room I felt the most comfortable around. I didn't realize that half the people here were considered friends but the more I thought about the more it made sense. Everyone knew someone, related to them, needed them at some point or another and this group of people just ended up being one tightly knitted circle. It was why pretty well the entire Shepard Gang was in the living room, why Buck closed the bar for the first time since it opened, and why someone like Kathy was consoling someone like Sylvia. It was comforting to know that I wasn't alone and I guess I really didn't mind people that cared enough to ask me how I was doing.

Soda and Steve were complaining about Two-Bit, who was currently passed out in Darry's bedroom. He had shown up to the funeral drunk as a skunk, I was sure no one really blamed him either; he'd lost two of his best friends and everyone who knew Two-Bit knew that he didn't deal with loss very well.

"Well it's dandy to wake up drunk but he really didn't have to keep drinking when he woke up," Steve argued. Soda sighed, telling Steve that people mourned in different ways.

That was one thing I had realized about Steve since I had come back, he was mean when he was worried about someone he cared about—well, meaner than usual. I understood his reasoning, when people that you cared about did something stupid enough to make you worry… it was only fair to be at least a little angry with them. I came to the realization the first day I came back that Steve didn't _really_ hate me, sure I annoyed him half the time but it was when Steve was completely indifferent to someone when they should start to worry. His anger—for the most part anyway was out of love. God help anyone who told him that.

"He left Jane to find her own way to the church," Steve continued, in a harsher tone, as if to prove his point. Soda had nothing to say to this, Two-Bit was too overwhelmed with his own loss that he couldn't be an older brother for his sister. There was no reason for it really, they needed each other but instead Two-Bit turned to alcohol and Jane didn't really have anyone.

"Where is she anyway?" I asked when I couldn't spot her in the mass of darkness. She was easy enough to spot, if she were inside it wouldn't have been hard. I turned on my heel and headed toward the door before either of them could answer.

I had grown up with Jane, known her my whole life and I knew she was the type of girl who refused help, refused to be doted on, and she not only wanted to solve her own problems but needed to, she didn't rely on anyone. She was probably the most independent person I knew but her lack of reliance on people led to distancing them and in the end I just knew it made her sad.

Jane was sitting on the front step. I said she would be easy to spot in the crowd because she was in a bright yellow dress. Her hair wasn't done up, her make-up wasn't streaming down her face, and there was no black. She looked up at me before moving over to make room.

"Hey," I said, sitting down beside her. I didn't know what else to say, I hadn't seen her since I had been back. Somehow she looked older than sixteen, like she had aged ten years since I had last saw her. I knew she had worried over me and Johnny while we were gone and it was most definitely her that had stopped Two-Bit from going on a search in Texas; and Curly had been put in a boys home, the guy who she always seemed most comfortable around—although I would never understand why. Now with two deaths of important people in her life, anyone could see it was taking a toll on her.

She turned toward me, giving me a sad smirk. Her eyes were glazed over from what could only be from the joint she constantly had on her, her hair was a mess as if she'd been constantly running a hand through it, and she had managed to take off her shoes and a thin layer of dirt covered her feet. I frowned; her right cheek was still red from where Sylvia had slapped her.

After the funeral, outside the church, before everyone had made their way here, Sylvia grabbed her by the shoulder and started screaming at her. I couldn't understand half the things she was saying because she couldn't seem to catch her breath from sobbing but it had caused a scene. Jane just stood there and let Sylvia yell at her, which was probably the oddest thing I've ever seen Jane do. It was no secret that they hated each other. Jane had always hated the way she treated Dallas and Sylvia simply didn't like someone as pretty as Jane hanging around her boyfriend. I had had many suspicions that it caused a lot of fights between Dallas and her.

The only thing I could make out of Sylvia's screams was it was disrespectful of Jane to wear what she was to a funeral, claiming that she didn't give two fucks about Dallas or Johnny and that everyone would be much better off if she never showed up—something to that extent anyway, with a lot more swearing and tears.

And then Sylvia hit her; I'm not talking those slaps girls give their boyfriends when they're angry. This slap had so much force behind it I'm surprised Jane didn't fall over. But she just kept standing there, not saying or doing anything. Maybe Sylvia wanted her to fight back because afterwards she just kept yelling and screaming before attempting to take Jane to the ground for a full on cat scrap. That's when Tim and Marty stepped in and held her back, Tim whispered something into her ear and suddenly she was perfectly still. Sylvia was Curly's cousin and to be honest I was glad he wasn't there to see it all because there was no doubt in my mind that he would have lost his temper completely.

Before letting Tim walk her to his car she turned to Jane and demanded to know why she was wearing that stupid dress, why suddenly she got to be the better person and not fight back. Jane stared at her for a while; finally making some kind of contact. She walked straight up to Sylvia and said 'if you were someone else, I would.' And then she just walked away, Jane Mathews walking away from a fight-then I understood.

Dallas was dead. There was no point in fighting anymore. They were both lost and hurt. Sylvia lost the proclaimed love of her life and for once in her life I think Jane was level headed enough to realize all of this and to just let Sylvia be mad at someone because she couldn't be mad at Dallas anymore.

I was proud of her.

"Hi," she responded before it fell completely silent. I sighed before asking her why she was outside all by her lonesome.

"There's a lot of people in there," she shrugged. "And this dress _is _pretty stupid."

I gave her a smile. It was just like Jane to make a point about something and then get self-conscious over how it would make her look after she had already done it.

"Why'd you wear it then?" I asked as if the answer she gave would make her remember why she had picked to wear a yellow dress to a funeral. Really, I wanted to know just as badly as Sylvia did. She looked at me and shrugged again.

"It's stupid… I just thought it would be nice, I guess," she said as if there was no other way of explaining herself.

"There's just so much… black and it's just a sad, miserable colour- I just thought that maybe if I wore something… else, it wouldn't feel that way. Ya know what I mean?"

I knew exactly what she was trying to say. She wasn't as good with her words as her brother was, Jane was more likely to explain herself through actions rather then words; that was why people misunderstood her. In order to understand Jane, you had to know her, really know her.

Just because she felt miserable on the inside doesn't mean she had to illustrate it on the outside. It was Jane's way of putting on a fake smile, being tough and getting through tragedy in her own way. I wasn't too sure if it was the healthy way of going about the grieving process but I knew for a fact she hadn't meant to offend anyone either.

Suddenly, I didn't feel so alone anymore. Jane understood the darkness of black, if she understood that much maybe I wouldn't feel as if I didn't fit in anywhere. I grinned at her, reassuring her I knew perfectly well what she meant.

She frowned slightly. "You really shouldn't be worrying about me Ponykid," she said as she rested her head on my shoulder. "You've been through enough shit for one life time."

Damn straight. But so had she, everything that affected me affected her as well. Maybe not to the same extent but it was there. That's just the way Jane was, she worried herself sick about other people that she forgot to do so for herself; someone had to worry for her and Two-Bit wasn't capable of doing so yet.

"Yellow suits you anyway," I told her, ignoring her concern. She gave me a genuine smile before we got up to go inside. Then, she gave me a hug, the kind of hug my brothers gave me when they first saw me in the hospital; her breathing was rigid as if she was trying to hold back from crying. I wouldn't have minded much, Two-Bit said she had yet to shed a tear, I knew she was trying to be tough for everyone else.

"I'm glad you're okay," she told me before pecking my cheek and making her way back inside.

My ears were on fire when we went our separate ways once inside. But suddenly, it wasn't so black anymore.


End file.
